


Not the Best of Plans

by bluetoast



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Frigga, Gen, Odin's Bad Parenting, Thor Is Not Stupid, baby Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a really old prompt at Norsekink: When Odin finds the infant Loki in Jotunheim, he takes him home but casts a spell on the baby to keep him in a prolonged sleep. Years later and Thor is being his usual reckless self. Odin is furious with him for whatever reason, and as Thor boasts more and more, claiming things that are exaggerated to make himself look good and generally being hateful, he makes a decision. Odin proposes a test for his son - if he's as rejective of sentiment as he's claiming to be, he must prove it and bring Mjolnir down on this little Jotunn babe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Best of Plans

The infant slept. Odin had smuggled the jotun child home in his cloak, hidden carefully in the folds, no one in his army or in Asgard had seen him return to the palace with what some would deem the perfect prisoner. The progeny of the defeated king of Jotunheim, Laufey. He had found the boy in the temple, abandoned and left to die. His heart had nearly shattered at the sight of the defenseless, scared thing. When he picked the boy up and watched as his skin faded from blue to cream, Odin had known he could not leave the child on Jotunheim. But he could not let anyone know of him either. 

If the boy could shift forms in infancy, there was no telling what he could do when he was older. 

Such a weapon was too powerful for any king to possess. Even him.

So here he was, settling the babe into a cradle hidden behind a tapestry in the weapons vault. The only other person who had known there was a room behind the great woven masterpiece was his father – and his father was long dead. He stroked the boy's cheek, smiling sadly. Such a child should not deserve this fate; locked away, hidden and set aside. No child should be locked away; if he could, he would carry the boy up to the nursery and have him raised alongside his son, Thor. 

They could be brothers; close and inseparable. All he would have to do was lift the enchantment and explain things to Frigga. They would work out details later, they could give the child everything he could possibly need. A loving family, a future; a name. But it was not to be. It could not be and it was just as heart-breaking as the situation Odin had found the babe in. 

Now was not the infant's time. 

Tucking the blankets and furs around the child a little more securely, Odin rose to his feet, tapping the cradle gently with his fingertips, setting it into motion. A golden glow surrounded the crib, keeping the babe asleep and the rocking constant and quiet. It took all his strength to leave the hidden alcove and exit the weapons vault. He would check on the boy once a century. Perhaps wake him, bring him something to eat, return him to his slumber. Every fiber of his being was telling Odin to turn back, wake the child and carry him into the nursery. Where he belonged, not in a dark corner of a hidden room. 

When the guards shut the doors of the weapons vault behind him, he knew he was imagining the soft wail of a scared infant; but it followed him down the corridors of the palace, settling in his heart and staying with him.

The babe was safe where he was. Out of the hands of Laufey – and protected from whatever corruption Asgard or himself could bring him.

The babe's time would come. Someday.

Odin pushed the door of the nursery open and instantly smiled as a small blond head looked up from his blocks. 

“Papa!” Thor cried and ran across the room on his chubby toddler legs, arms outstretched. “You're home!”

Beaming, he picked his son up and spun him around, hugging him. “You've grown!” He kissed the boy's cheek. 

Thor drew back, looking him. “Did you kill all the frost giants?”

How his face didn't falter, Odin doesn't know. He shook his head. “They have lost the war, Thor. That is enough.” He sets his son down. “Come, show me what you were building.” It was just the excitement of his return that caused Thor to ask about the death of all the frost giants. The war was still fresh, the wounds still new. Time would heal over the battle scars and the hate of the Jotun would be gone. He would see to that. His own mother was from Jotunheim, and his son would learn about his grandmother. 

As Thor babbled excitedly away about his block castle, all thoughts of the sleeping infant fell away. The child was well protected, tucked into the safest place in the entire nine realms.

**  
The universe turned and Odin watched Thor grow. To his dismay, despite him trying to explain to his son to be tolerant, not to judge, not to think in antiquated, hateful ways – the influence of others had more sway than his own father. It broke the Allfather's heart to hear Thor's boastful words. And it wasn't as if he and Frigga hadn't tried to teach his son humility. From helping the less fortunate people of Asgard to hard labor. These worked briefly, but soon Thor was back to his old ways. 

On Thor's one-thousandth name day, the Allfather decided that enough was enough. He would get through to his son. He only prayed that the boy's heart was not as cold and as empty as he feared it was.

*

The babe giggled when Odin woke him. He always had. Cradling the boy against him, he smiled as the boy suckled on a bottle of sweetened milk, his skin changing from Jotun to Æsir, finally settling back into his true skin as he finished what was his first meal in a century. The Allfather smiled sadly, burped the infant and then calmly cleaned and dressed him in a white christening gown, embroidered with pale green lilies along the hem. He smoothed down the swath of black hair that stayed with the boy no matter what form he was in – Odin remembered how surprised he was four centuries ago to find the infant had grown hair during his slumber, but it suited him. “Do not worry, little one.” He kissed the boy's cheek and tucked him into a sling that was hidden by his cape. “Your day has finally come. You will never have to return to your hiding place again.” 

He stood and strode out of the weapons vault, heading for the throne room. 

*

Thor couldn't imagine what his father had planned. Mother had offered no help in finding out. As he paced in the small anteroom off the throne room, he idly tossed Mjolnir from one hand to the other, his mind slowly eliminating ideas. It couldn't be news of an arranged marriage. Mother would have told him if it was and that wouldn't be some public spectacle. Nor could it be that Father was ready to pass the crown to him. That too, would be a private affair first. Father had mentioned something about a test. 

What sort of test did the mighty Thor need? How many times had he proved himself in battle? He had won many a tourney and many other fights. There was nothing he needed to prove. 

A servant bowed in the doorway. “They are ready for you, your highness.” 

Thor clipped his war hammer to his belt and strode out of the room, barely acknowledging the other person. When he came down the stairs of the throne room, he stopped short – the room was almost completely silent. Normally there were cheers upon his arrival. Instead, the people of Asgard were looking around nervously. On the far side of the room, he could see his mother and she looked borderline terrified. There were a few whispers among some people, but nothing much. In fact, there were only two distinct sounds in the throne room; his own footsteps and an odd giggling noise that seemed to be on the other end of the room, near his father. The noises were an odd counterpoint to each other, and he was halfway to his father when Thor found the source of the other noise.

A tiny infant was sitting at his father's feet, tugging on the Allfather's cape, clearly trying to get his attention. 

The infant was blue. 

A jotun babe was sitting in Asgard's throne room, completely unconcerned that it was... what was the child doing here?

“Thor Odinson.” Father's voice brought him to a stop and all conversation stopped, only the sweet trill of the infant remained. 

“Father.” Thor immediately went down on one knee, glancing at the infant again out of the corner of his eye. Even if was a frost giant, it was rather cute.

“Rise.” Odin's voice sounded cold, and it worried him as he got to his feet. The Allfather lifted his chin, his expression unreadable. “Time and time again you have spoken against compassion for enemies and for their kin. That sentiment is not a quality needed for a warrior or a king.” He stepped away from the babe, who responded by sticking his tiny blue hand in his mouth, blinking in confusion. “You have also claimed that once you are king of Asgard, you will annihilate the Jotun.” 

Thor felt his mouth go dry. Yes, he remembered saying these things, but why was Father calling him out on it now? And in front of everyone?

“If you have no love for the residents of Jotunheim and fully intend to destroy that realm, then you must prove it.” Odin's stance grew stiff. “Thor, wielder of the mighty Mjolnir, whose power has no equal, take your weapon and crush the skull of this jotun babe.”

A horrified gasp swept through the throne room and Thor looked at his father as if he had grown another head. His father had just asked him to kill a baby. Was the Allfather out of his mind? Was this some sort of sick joke? The silence was broken by the little jotun letting out a giggle and then overbalanced from its sitting position and fell over, his laughter suddenly becoming a frustrated cry. The sounded echoed around the room and Thor felt like his feet were nailed to the floor. Why wasn't anyone helping the distressed child? He swallowed and slowly looked around, not making eye contact with anyone, still trying to process the horror he had been presented with.

Thor only wanted to protect the Nine Realms and the frost giants were a.... well, the only frost giant he'd ever seen was the one currently bawling in his father's throne room. What Father had asked was cruel. Not just to him, but to the infant as well. Where had the babe come from? Was he really a frost giant or was he an Æsir babe who had been enchanted to look like a jotun?

Did that even _matter_? He unhooked the Mjolnir from his belt and dropped it on the floor, the metal met marble, no doubt cracking the floor, and the sound caused the babe to only cry harder. “I will not do it. The child is innocent.” 

Father's stance did not change. “Then take your weapon and leave, knowing that your heart is not hard and you are capable of compassion. A quality that is not a weakness, but a strength that can grow to the point where it is indestructible.” 

Thor was about to do as he was told when his mother swept forward and picked up the wailing infant, cradling him close. Her gaze went from him to his father, her eyes full of outrage and accusation. 

*  
 _“What were you thinking?”_ Frigga barely kept her voice down. She looked from her husband to her son. “How long have you had the boy?”

“Frigga, it is...” Odin started to say, and she cut him off.

 _“How long?”_ She was disgusted with her husband more than Thor. For her son's part, he seemed fascinated with babe who kept changing from blue to cream, giggling with delight at the attention he was receiving.

The Allfather hung his head, shame evident on his face. “Since the war ended.” 

“That was nearly a thousand years ago!” She snarled. “You hid this babe away and... why?”

“When I saw him change forms the first time, I knew I could not leave him with Laufey. I also knew I could not raise him; if he was that powerful at a young age... at the time, it was too tempting of a weapon to hold onto. I hid him for his own safety.” He rose to his feet. “As for this afternoon, he was protected by a spell. If Thor had attempted to lay a finger on him, the results would have been disastrous.” 

“That is a pitiful excuse for what happened today.” She shook her head, trying to compose herself. “What is done is done. What do you intend to do with the boy now? You can't hide him away again, Norns only know what they're saying in the taverns and streets tonight! That the Allfather is a barbarian! That he bade his son to kill an innocent child as a test? And the babe, what do you think they're saying about him?”

Thor came over to them, balancing the boy on his hip. “Father, Mother is right. What do you intend to do with Loki?”

“Loki?” Odin made a face. “You mean you have named the boy?”

Frigga could have slapped her husband. “Almost a thousand years and you never gave him a name?” She went over to her son and took the baby. “There's nothing to be done but to take care of Loki and raise him.” The boy seemed to be content with staying jotun blue at the moment. “In case the two of you failed to notice, Jotunheim's people abolished their monarchy two centuries ago and now govern themselves.” She glared at Odin. “Although that _might_ have something to do with King Laufey dying childless.” 

Adjusting her hold on Loki, she swept from the room and headed for her chambers. By now her handmaidens would have set up Thor's old cradle and found other things she would need to care for the babe. At her age, she should be clamoring for grandchildren, not a baby of her own. She paused halfway down the corridor and held him out, holding him under his arms, watching as Loki shifted back to Æsir form. She grinned. “Are you going to be my sorcerer, little one?” 

In response, the boy let out a giggle and blinked at her, wrinkling his nose.

“Oh, yes, yes you are...” She tucked her... _grandson_ next to her and continued on. “We'll explain things to your papa in the morning. In light of today's events, I doubt Thor will object very much. I just hope you sleep for me tonight.”


End file.
